


eyes wide open;

by manicmidnight



Series: TW Sad Stuff [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Theo Raeken, Introspection, M/M, ish?, nightmare fic with a twist, or at least I think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmidnight/pseuds/manicmidnight
Summary: Theo wonders how long it’ll take for him to wake up again.





	eyes wide open;

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, the quality of this fic is more likely to make you cry than the actual contents. there is a reason i try not to write angst. enjoy anyway?

Theo never used to care. Really, he didn’t.

And should that be so surprising? Everyone knows that Theo Raeken is bad news. Theo Raeken is the one your parents warn you about, the wolf in sheep’s clothing who stalks you through the night, fangs bared and ready to _bite, tear, rip_ you apart. He’s the one with claws ready; to slash your throat, to jam into your back when you’re not looking.

Theo Raeken is supposed to be invincible. He’s supposed to be _indestructible_.  He accepts that and, once upon a time, even wore the lie on his lips with a proud smile.

Except, right now, Theo feels none of that. He’s not invincible. Not even _close_.

As his eyes fly open, breath whooshing out of him in strained, gasping huffs, Theo doesn’t feel brave _._ It’s cold around him, chill pinching through the thin fabric of his clothes, and there are metallic thumps against Theo’s arms.

He’s back in the—

Theo forces himself out, heart in his throat. The morgue is as silent as he remembers, dark and haunting. It’s one of these, again. Another terror of the night.

He walks forward in resignation. There’s nothing he can do to stop it, just has to brave through it and wait it out. Hands fly out to push against the doors, and his bare feet slap harshly against the linoleum floor as he walks towards a certain fate.

Theo’s used to this. Used to the biting chill as he treads to where Judgment lays in wait, ready to rip his sins from his skin. On some level, he thinks he might deserve it. He thinks it might never stop anyway, so why even try and fight back?

Theo’s a fool, though, caving to his mind. When he hears the hiss of his name, the low resonance of it, his mind doesn’t let him give up, urges him to run, make a break for it.

 _Maybe you can get away this time_ , it jibes cruelly and Theo, despite knowing the truth of it—despite knowing that nothing will ever be _enough_ —listens. He should know better, should know that he can’t always run away from his problems, that each mistake, each _drip, drop_ of blood staining his hands is never going to leave him. It’s going to stay, permanent like a scar.

Theo’s shoulders are meant to droop, are meant to be heavy with burden. It’s his Price. He accepts it, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s made peace with it. Theo _wants_ to get away, despite it all.

But he knows he needs to atone.

So when he hears a voice slithering through the halls, whispering into his ears, he wonders who it could be, this time.

_Theoooooo…_

 

His arms ache from slamming into the exit doors, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know that, whoever it may be is after him this time, he’s still not getting away.

See, it’s not just Tara, anymore. Sometimes, it’s his mother, tears of blood streaking her cheeks. Sometimes, if he’s unlucky: it’s his father with his mouth grotesquely twisted in vicious hate. And other times…

Other times, it’s Liam, with his pretty blue eyes glazed, and frightfully empty.

It takes a lot to make someone like Theo Raeken _regret_ but his mind has plenty of ammunition. It’s supercharged against him, eager to break him apart every time he closes his eyes, every time he wants a break. It dances around him, plays him like a fiddle, and makes him bend to it. And he always does. Especially when it comes to Liam.

_Theoooooo…_

 

So when cold fingers slide around his ankle, Theo doesn’t do anything to stop it. The inevitable fall, the inevitable pain. He’d much rather tear out his own heart than lose this chance at redemption.

_Huh._

A smile graces his lips at the bitter irony of it all.

_Begging for redemption when it’s already too late._

And well, it’s just Tara this time. Theo doesn’t plead for her to stop like he used to, knowing it’s better to just let her do as she wants. He’ll wake up soon anyway, he can deal with this, let her have her fill so she can at least rest easy.

So, he doesn’t scream when she digs her hand through his chest, nails piercing into his skin, through it. His eyes stare glossily into her empty ones, as she pulls her heart from him, makes his back arch upwards in a familiar path. But his lips stay pressed shut, no imploring whimpers leaving them even as they tremble in protest. His head slumps backwards in a familiar motion, eyes fluttering shut.

He deserves this.

Theo tells himself this as his eyes shoot open once more, breath _whooshing_ from his lungs in an urgent gasp. Even as his elbows bang painfully against metal, Theo tells himself this so he can push forward. He’s tried staying put before, naïve in his thinking, but it doesn’t stop them.

Nothing ever does. Nothing ever will.

Theo heads for the elevators, this time. His knees ache from crawling out, but he pays them no mind, just staggers forward and frantically presses the button, thumb beginning to bruise with the force of his jabs.

The button doesn’t work. It never does, but Theo goes and does it anyway. It’s funny that even his head is pitted against him, that even when he should be safe, he really isn’t. Not from himself. But that’s okay, because Theo isn’t the one in need of protecting; no, he’s the one people should be protected from.

And he gets that. Theo isn’t sure when but, somewhere down the line, he’s grown to accept his role as the evil mastermind he’s made himself out to be. Maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. Does it really matter anymore?

As he gives up, slumping against the heavy metal doors of the elevator, Theo thinks wryly that Liam would say it does. The furious boy with anger issues who’s ferocious in his strength but is also so painfully vulnerable. The one who lets Theo into his room at night to sleep, knowing that Theo could choose to rip his throat out any time he pleases, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop it if Theo were to just give in.

Scott McCall’s baby beta, strong and upstanding, just like his Alpha. Of course he would. Speaking of which, Theo’s surprised he hasn’t woken him up yet, he usually does. Well, one night of many is nothing.

_Theooooo…_

 

The voice gets closer, and Theo chokes back a deprecating laugh when he sees who it is. Ask, and you shall receive, right?

Theo wonders why that never seems to apply to him in the way he actually wants. Maybe because this is what he needs. Maybe he really needs this –this punishment.

Liam looks just as pale as he always does, eyes cold and distant, so unlike himself that it’s almost painful to stomach. Theo can hear words rushing through his head, screams of _yourfaultyourfaultyourfault_ but how can he fix this when he doesn’t know _how_?

“I’m sorry.” He gasps tearfully when Liam pushes him against the elevator, cold breath sending goosebumps across his skin. He knows it’s his fault that Liam nearly killed his Alpha, his fault Hayden and Corey died, _hisfaultalways_ , “Y-You don’t have to stop.”

He doesn’t know why he says it anymore, when he knows no one’s listening.

Icy blue eyes stare right through him, penetrating his very soul. His mind knows his kryptonite, uses it against him like a dog and a bone, and Theo falls for it, just like every other time.

“P-Please.” He begs, though he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, at this point. Is it for him to stop? It is for him not to? Is it for redemption? Is it for everything to just _end_ or—?

His head knocks back against metal as Liam’s claws tear through him, grasping at Tara’s heart. Tears sting Theo’s eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall, just stares at Liam’s blood specked cheeks with a listless gaze, body shutting down as Liam yanks his hand from his chest.

As his eyes flutter shut, Theo wonders how long it’ll take for him to wake up again.

 

* * *

 

In the dead of the night, Beacon Hills sleeps restfully. The monster’s finally been put away, and the best part?

He doesn't even know it.

**Author's Note:**

> concrit would be much appreciated! i don't write angst in general, so any and all advice would be great :')
> 
>  
> 
> find me on [Tumblr](https://maniacalmidnight.tumblr.com/) if you ever wanna chat!


End file.
